Between Two Worlds
by Jordy
Summary: Sometimes a dream may seem more real than reality itself. Or maybe reality is the dream... Chapter two: Legolas has a bad run-in with orcs (dun dun dunnn!).
1. Chapter One

Hello to all. First time I've written in a while. The idea for this fic was spawned a while after watching the Animatrix. In this fic, the Lord of the Rings books and movies never existed.  
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Lord of the Rings _(cries)_ or the quote from which this story is based on.  
  
"Why does everything feel more real when I'm asleep?" _--The Animatrix_  
  
**Between Two Worlds  
**  
By Jordy  
  
**Chapter One**  
  
The seasons had brought pleasant weather in recent weeks. Sunlight shone uninhibited upon the land called Ithilien, which had been choked with the smothering overshadowed presence of Mordor until the fall of Sauron. Since his fall, the evil persistence seemed to be just melting away, the land restoring itself to some of its former glory.  
  
But the land was not alone in rebuilding itself. The elves that had established a colony there had greatly aided Ithilien with their mere presence. Even though the ships were sailing west and the elven population was ever dwindling, some had chosen to follow Legolas Thranduilion to Ithilien to erase one more remnant of Sauron's reign that had overflowed across the mountains from Mordor.  
  
Legolas looked out over what he had accomplished from atop a large hill about a league from the borders of the colony. Several settlements had been erected in Ithilien in the years since the destruction of the One Ring. He himself had been named Lord of Ithilien, since he had been the one to take it upon himself to restore the land.  
  
He then looked the other direction, towards Gondor. He had been traveling frequently between Ithilien and Gondor to meet with Aragorn and to notify him of the progress being made in obliterating the shadow over what used to be such a beautiful land.  
  
The setting sun was bright as he gazed west. He knew that beyond his immediate destination was his ultimate one. He had been longing to go to Valinor for some time now, to visit once again with loved ones that had already sailed West. But instead he sighed and turned back towards his horse.  
  
He leapt up onto the mare's back and softly spoke that there was still time to journey onward before they could stop to rest. He knew he should have left earlier, but his duties had delayed him a bit. Apparently a few straggling orcs had been sighted close to his colony's borders and he had ordered a patrol sent after them. He glanced upward and thought that maybe in two more hours the stars would begin to show themselves. All his life he had admired the stars and had taken great joy at basking in their presence. Legolas heaved a sigh as his mount cantered at a steady pace. He imagined that he should pay Gimli a visit soon. Perhaps he would come across the dwarf while he was at Minas Tirith; Gimli had gotten into a habit of visiting Aragorn fairly regularly. He always had an excuse as to why he was there. The south wall of the palace had to be rebuilt. He was contemplating building a more battle- worthy gate.  
  
Legolas chuckled to himself. He knew that Gimli would never outright admit to just wanting to stay in touch with the former members of the fellowship. Legolas had to confess that the same was true of him. He recalled one incidence when he had found a unique flower in his forest and had brought it to Gondor to add to Arwen's garden. But truly he merely wanted to see his friends again.  
  
The sun continued to sink towards the horizon. Before long it was too dark to travel safely by. Legolas guided his mount to a nearby copse of trees near a small stream that branched from the Anduin. He let her wander as she pleased, as long as she didn't stray too far. He built together a fire to keep nighttime predators at bay and dug in his pack for something in the way of sustenance.  
  
He brought forth some lembas and sat on his bedroll. He nibbled on the waybread and stared at the fire, occasionally glancing at his horse. Feeling well nourished, he placed the remainder of his bread back in his pack and lied down and prepared to sleep. He threw one more look at his horse and reminded her once again to stay near. Legolas then released his hold on wakefulness.

* * *

"Keith," a voice said.  
  
He tried to ignore it, but it persisted.  
  
"Keith!" Louder this time. A hand on his shoulder accompanied it this time, followed by a firm shake. "You need to wake up or you'll be late for class."  
  
But he didn't want to wake up. He never wanted to wake up. He much preferred dreams to reality. _If it really is reality,_ he always added mentally.  
  
He sat up in bed and glanced around. The sheets and comforter lied on top of him, barely rumpled. His roommate Mike always said that he slept like a rock.  
  
Speaking of Mike, he was still standing in front of him, staring down at him. Keith blinked at him. The other heaved a sigh and crossed to the other side of the small dormitory. "You barely answer to your own name anymore," he mumbled.  
  
Keith didn't respond. Instead he swung his legs over the side of his mattress and stood. He looked around once again and tried to remember where he was. Gone was the stream and trees, gone was his horse. He was back in the bland world he sought escape from every day. He trudged into the bathroom and picked up his toothbrush. "Aren't you gonna eat something?" Mike said from the other room.  
  
"No," Keith answered. He felt like he just ate. "Not hungry." He heard the door open and shut. This was routine: Mike would wake him up and then leave for class. Both benefited from it. Mike did his good deed for the day, and Keith made it to class on time.  
  
He stuck his toothbrush under the running water and lazily ran the tube of toothpaste across the brush. He stuck it in his mouth and looked at the mirror as he swept it across his teeth.  
  
His long blonde hair was in only slight disarray. Keith would admit that he was a constant victim of bedhead, a result of his constant napping. He recognized the dull and blank look in his bright blue eyes. It wasn't anything new. Whenever he found himself back here, he always felt disoriented and lost, or like he just wasn't really here. Sometimes he wondered if this world was the dream one, and the other one that he visited so often was his reality. He wished it was.  
  
He bent over the sink and spit out the toothpaste, rinsed his toothbrush and ran a hairbrush through his hair. He left the bathroom and bent to pick up a pair of jeans off the floor that probably hadn't been washed in a week. He glanced around for a shirt. His eyes fell on the shirt he had thrown on his bed last night after he took it off. He grabbed it and put it on. It was college; nobody cared if he was wearing the same thing he did yesterday. Half the students here did the same thing.  
  
He made a mental note to get all his laundry together and go visit his parents. At _least they let me use their washer for free,_ he thought.  
  
Keith then grabbed his backpack and exited.  
  
After leaving the dorm building, he walked across the community college campus. He wasn't in any hurry. As long as the day ended swiftly, he didn't care how it went. His destination wasn't far; he entered the classroom just as the professor of English, Mr. Brink, was telling people to shut up so he could get on with his lesson.  
  
Keith walked to the back of the classroom, found a desk and took out his textbook.  
  
"Open to page four thirty-seven," Mr. Brink announced. Keith flipped open the book, and stared at the words. After a moment they all seemed to blur together, so he looked up at the professor, who was already on his daily rant. He tried to listen to the lecture, but about five minutes later those words blended together and seemed to lose all meaning. Keith glanced at his book again. He couldn't muster the effort to try to comprehend what he was looking at. He lowered his head to the desk. The smooth surface felt cool against his forehead. He sighed, tried to listen to Mr. Brink again. Making no sense of it, he let himself drift off back to sleep.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of light scuffling. It was still dark, maybe an hour after he had lied down to sleep. His horse was pawing at the dying embers of the fire, and the sounds of nocturnal animals were obvious in his ears. He sat up and crawled over to the ring of stones surrounding the ashes and remaining weakening flames. He grabbed a nearby piece of fallen tree branch and tossed it into the fire pit.  
  
Digging in his pack once again, he drew two stones and began striking them together, trying to make them spark. Finally a flicker of flame fell on the wood. After a couple more attempts, Legolas let it be. He picked up a small stick and prodded the ashes and tried to stoke the fire. Within minutes, he had a small fire once again.  
  
He sat back and tilted his head up. He could see the night sky through gaps in the trees. They shone beautifully, sharing the sky with the giant glowing orb of a moon. The elf sighed in contentment.  
  
This was where he really wanted to be.  
  
**TBC**  
  
So to clear up any confusion, Legolas and Keith are the same person. I'd appreciate a review... It keeps my morale up. Yeah... Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter Two

Hello again. Special thanks and much love to my beta reader Ermanil Luinedhel Elfobbit. Not much to say, so I guess I'll just get on with the story. For disclaimer, see chapter one.  
  
**Chapter Two  
**  
Elven senses picked up a distinct scent on the nighttime breeze. Legolas lowered his eyes from the sky to the trees surrounding his makeshift camp. What he smelled was more of a stench than anything else. It was foul but familiar.  
  
He mentally chastised himself for not having been more cautious. The warning his guards had given him before he left echoed throughout his mind. If there were orcs around, he should have taken refuge in the trees.  
  
Legolas stood up quickly and kicked out the fire. Hastily he gathered up his bedroll and called his horse to him. He knew he wouldn't get far in this dark, but he had to get some headway above the orcs. He checked his weapons before leaping onto his mount and whispering words of warning and the importance of speed in her ears.  
  
The orcs must have seen the light of his fire and he could already hear them approaching.  
  
He raced out into a stretch of open plain and hoped that there weren't any hazardous pitfalls in the dark. For a moment the elf was out of earshot of his adversaries, but it wasn't long before the orcs realized that he had taken flight. Shouts rang through the night.  
  
Along with the shouts were the howls of beasts. Apparently wargs were present with the hostile party.  
  
Legolas mentally cursed. If his pursuers had mounts at their disposal, then his chance of escape was ever decreasing.  
  
_"Noro lim,"_ he urged. He glanced back to see if his enemies were already in the field. There were definitely figures that he could discern in the dark. Roughly five wargs, three with riders, and about another five runners. Legolas knew he was outnumbered. Alone he might have been able to handle the orcs, but the wargs most certainly made matters worse. His best chance at survival was to retreat. Looking forward he again pressed his horse to continue with speed.  
  
The noises of chase were becoming louder in his ears. He could hear nearly every footfall of the gaining wargs. He could hear the shouts and curses coming from the riders. The elf risked another look backwards. His closest follower was an orc atop a big husky warg. The beast was snarling, excited at having something to chase. The orc was swinging a sling above his head.  
  
Legolas veered off to the side, hoping that this would throw off his enemy's aim. He then brought his horse to the other side of his general path, continuing with a zig zagging motion.  
  
His tactic was thus far working. He saw several fist-sized stones striking the ground where he had been but a moment earlier. But his path was taking from his distance. He could hear more wargs approaching. He ceased his crooked trail and continued to run as straight a course as he was able. This gained him some distance, but not enough. He was still in range of the orc's sling.  
  
Another stone hit the ground near him. He unslung his bow and twisted around as far as he could without inadvertently dismounting himself. He thought that if he aimed for the warg first, that would buy him more time. Shooting the rider first would only lighten the beast's load, he figured.  
  
He designed his arrow to fire straight through the wolf-hybrid's chest cavity, but the jostling of his horse made aiming a bit more difficult. He lost sight of his exact target several times before managing to let fly his arrow towards its intended destination.  
  
The arrow burst through the beast's chest, blood spurting outward. Legolas barely took in his handiwork, trying to buy himself every possible second to use to his advantage. The warg stumbled in its frenzied run before its legs buckled and collapsed underneath it. But a split second before it went down, the orc rider hurled another stone towards his wished-for victim. He fell with his warg as soon as the stone left the sling.  
  
Legolas felt something very solid connect with the back of his skull. The force of the blow threw him forward, bending him over the horse's neck. He blacked out before he knew if he would hit the ground or not.

* * *

Keith threw his head back to compensate for its forceful shove forward. But where he expected empty air to catch him, he met the resistance of the back of his chair. The momentum of his movement carried the chair with him. He felt the legs of the chair leave the ground. He felt too stunned to do anything about it, however. He didn't make a grab for his desk in front of him, barely flailed his limbs in an attempt to balance himself.  
  
He felt his head meet the floor accompanied by a loud thud. Light flashed behind his eyes and then his vision cleared to reveal the fluorescent light covered ceiling above him.  
  
His senses returned to him fairly quickly. The initial reaction of the rest of the students was a few scattered muffled giggles. Then he heard somebody question, "Are you okay?"  
  
Mr. Brink was mirroring the inquiry. "Are you okay? What's happening back there?"  
  
Keith sat up, putting a hand to the back of his head. He picked his chair up with his free hand and set it upright once more. He sat in the chair and laid his head on the desk, putting his other hand behind his skull to join his other one. He thought that maybe if he applied enough pressure, he could push the throbbing away.  
  
And then, "Oh my god, he's bleeding!"  
  
Footsteps approached him, and Keith lifted his head enough to recognize Mr. Brink coming to him. He let his face fall back towards his desk.  
  
After a few steadying breaths, Keith sat up again. He brought a hand in front of him and was filled with mild surprise.  
  
His whole hand was red with blood. He hadn't realized that he had hit the ground so hard. Confusion flooded his features. No, he thought. He knew that he had not, in fact, fallen that hard. An accident like this would only yield a fair-sized bruise and a bump, but it was not enough to break skin like this.  
  
Mr. Brink took in the sight of Keith's bloodied hand. "Somebody call an ambulance," he said. He held up a couple of fingers in front of his student's face. "How many fingers, kid?"  
  
Keith tried to deny his blurring vision. Even if he hadn't experienced a lot of pain, the injury was still taking its toll on him. He briefly wondered how much blood one had to lose to cause dizziness like this. He left Mr. Brink's question unanswered and instead slid out of the chair to take a seat on the floor.  
  
_The closer to the ground I am, the less far I have to fall,_ he kept telling himself. But the classroom kept spinning. He felt that if it kept doing this, he would be flung out a window by the momentum caused. He laid his head down on the floor, trying to get as close to it as possible.  
  
He tried to focus on his breathing. _In and out... In and out..._ Focused on the floor. Cool and hard. Voices around him became vague and he couldn't understand what they were saying. He barely sensed Mr. Brink kneeling by him, trying to wrap a sweatshirt around his head to staunch the bleeding.  
  
"Hold that there," Mr. Brink instructed. Keith numbly covered the sweatshirt with his bloody hands, holding it against the bleeding gash in his head.  
  
_Don't pass out, don't pass out,_ he drilled himself. People were still talking around him but he continued to not comprehend them. He closed his eyes to the whirling room and willed it to stop spinning.  
  
Finally the blood loss was too much for his body to continue functioning. The clamor of noises began to fade away. Keith felt like he was falling. Oblivion welcomed him as he fell into unconsciousness.  
  
**TBC**  
  
Sorry it's so short. But either way... Write a review. You know you want to._ (Grin)_


End file.
